


explosive

by spncereid



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Prison Spencer Reid, thats all thats literally the whole thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25726951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spncereid/pseuds/spncereid
Summary: you and spencer reid have been best friends since you joined the BAU. he'd gotten used to you protecting him, but the script flips this time.
Relationships: Spencer Reid & Reader, Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Kudos: 76





	explosive

The last remnants of rain pattered on the sidewalk, leaving behind the familiar scent of wet earth. The dampened sidewalk hit against the bottoms of your black boots and you reminded yourself to look up. To your left, Spencer hummed to himself. You’d gotten used to his little mannerisms over the two years you’d been a member of the BAU team. Sometimes, he even managed to calm you down just by being himself and he didn’t even know it. He was the team member you had grown the closest to the quickest. The two of you had bonded over troubled childhoods, absent fathers, and your English degree and love for literature. Really, he’d become more like your brother than anything else. You two had a standing Sunday morning chess game time at the local park, given you weren’t on a case. Spencer would only come to team bar or club outings if you dragged him along. When you were out in the field, you knew you could trust any member of the team with your life… but Spencer even more so. Ever since he’d met your mother and brother, he knew it was his own personal duty to make sure you were safe. You did the same for him, images of his mom flashing in your mind whenever he was in danger. When he’d gone to prison, you’d checked in with his mom every single day. You’d been the one in Mexico, staying as close as you could to Spencer. You both felt an obligation to each other.   
The comfort Spencer brought to you was why you were glad Hotch had paired you both together for today’s particular adventure. The most recent victim your current unsub had claimed was last seen at a raucous bar on a crowded Saturday night. It was Sunday morning now and you and Spencer had been assigned the job to interview patrons and employees of the bar. No one on the team knew about your social anxiety like Spencer did, which is why he was humming now. He was trying, both actively and secretly, to calm the nerves he knew were building in the pit of your stomach.   
You suppressed a yawn, suddenly remembering you had forgotten to bring your coffee with you out of the SUV when you’d parked a few blocks away. Spencer caught your tiredness, eyeing you from the side with both concern and care.   
“You know, if we finish up here quickly, we could get back before all the morning doughnuts are gone.” He told you, his soft-spoken voice soothing you in moments.   
You snorted, “You mean, if Morgan doesn’t eat all the doughnuts.”   
Spencer laughed then, an easy but happy sound nonetheless. You looked up towards shop signs above your heads and stopped walking. Checking the address on a sign against the one Garcia had sent to your cell phone, you took a deep breath. Spencer stepped forward to open the door, holding it so you could walk in first. As you passed by him, he gave you a small, apologetic smile. He knew exactly what you were feeling as you felt it. He’d learned a long time ago how to read you.   
You took your first steps into the bar, the dim lighting taking a few moments to adjust to. There was a long row of barstools set up against a wooden bar. Behind the bar, there were endless cases of alcohol and mirrored display cases holding the top-shelf drinks. Across from the bar, there were a few tables in tight clusters. Chairs were still scattered from what must have been last night’s craziness and the jukebox played a slow country song. You spotted a man wiping up behind the bar and walked over towards him, letting every step fill you with a touch more confidence. You knew Spencer was following one second behind you and pictured his question-filled gaze sweeping across the space you occupied. You had time for one more deep breath before you reached the man behind the bar and, though you tried to make it inconspicuous, Spencer caught it. You tried in vain to push the anxiety down because you weren’t normally this person in the field. One of the first times Spencer had learned he could lean on you was because you’d taken charge of a situation when he could not. Instead of being upset with you or his own feelings of not being good enough, he’d been grateful for your self-assurance. He knew you didn’t need his help and you would never openly ask for it either, but he wanted to be there for you if and when the time came that he could do for you what you always did for him.   
The man behind the bar looked up when he saw your shadows cross his vision. Furrowed brows and a scowl met you and Spencer’s tight grins. As he took a closer look, his gaze dropped away from Spencer and focused on you intently. Your instincts kicked in under his heated look and you held his eyes, daring him to look away. The moment lasted for two, maybe three seconds but it told you enough. You had gotten used to those kinds of looks a long time ago. They came from men of all ages and types and they usually only got worse when you flashed your FBI badge. This man spoke before you had the chance to reach for your badge, however.   
“Now, you must be an angel, sweetheart, to come around here on a Sunday morning.” A thick drawl fell from his lips, hitting you like a poison. You suppressed a shudder when he grinned, revealing a row of yellowed teeth.   
You knew what you had to do and bit your tongue to stop the stinging comment that threatened to spill from your mouth. Reaching for your badge, you opened it and slid it across the bar towards the man.   
“FBI, sir. We’re here to ask some questions about last night.”   
Your voice was level, steady and professional. It was the exact opposite of everything the man had been. What he couldn’t see, and Spencer could, was your hand curling and uncurling itself into a fist on your leg. It was one your tell-tale signs, even if you didn’t know it.   
The man peeked at your badge, then flicked his eyes to Spencer over your shoulder. You knew Spencer must have been holding up his badge as well because you watched as the man’s eyes narrowed and that winning scowl reappeared on his face.   
“You’re way too pretty to be one of them, sweetheart.” He spoke, once again, just to you. You started to wonder if he even saw that Spencer was in the room. You knew Spencer wouldn’t step in or fight your battles for you, but you couldn’t but wonder if you might want him to this time. Dealing with this man, who wasn’t going to prove helpful, wasn’t helping the knot in your stomach. You felt your heartbeat quickening and your veins began to flow with a small amount of heat. A stress migraine developed above your right eye, but you were determined to see this through.   
“Well, sometimes they make exceptions for women if we’re super smart. Though… I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Your sarcasm fell out before you could stop it and the smirk on your lips only finalize the comment. For what was probably the first time in his life, the man had no reply. You felt Spencer shift behind you and took advantage of the man’s silence.   
“So, do you think you can help us out or not? I’ve got other places I can be if you don’t remember anything.” You feigned interest as you glanced around the bar, finding there was no one around but the three of you. A thought raced across your mind that there’d be no one to defend the man if you did end up punching that leering grin off of his face… and you knew Spencer would back you up. You chased the thought away, knowing it wasn’t an option, no matter how tempting.   
When the man still didn’t answer you, you reached for your phone. Pulling up a photo of the victim, you showed it to the man who still glared at you in mild shock.   
“This woman. Did you see her last night?” You asked, this time with a polite tone reentering your voice. There was an easy way to get this done, you knew that, but the way the man leaned on his arm to get closer to you as he faked interest in the photo’s details… it made you uneasy. When he turned his face up towards yours, his suggestive eyes meeting the fire behind your irises, you fought your fight or flight instinct.   
He smirked, clearly having caught your unease, “Can’t say that I have.”   
The words were easy, smooth. They sounded practiced.   
You sighed, tucking your phone back in your pocket. “The woman’s name is Rebecca Jones. She was last seen here last night. Are you sure you never saw her?”   
The knit eyebrows returned at your annoyed tone, “It was kinda busy here last night and I didn’t see every woman in here because I was too busy making another woman scream my name.”   
You couldn’t fight the grimace that appeared on your face. You felt Spencer tense beside you and he instinctively reached for your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. You hated when men talked about women like that. As if they were some property to be conquered and had. As if they weren’t living, breathing human beings. As if they only existed for the male existence and pleasure.   
You opened your mouth to speak, but Spencer beat you to it. His voice wasn’t soft as he stepped forward. He’d let you handle this the entire time and he’d kept his mouth shut as this man treated you like you were a lesser creature. He’d told himself to release the anger coiling in his body when the man got closer to you or when he called you ‘sweetheart,’ but now there’d been a line crossed and he couldn’t let go of that anger anymore.   
“Hey, I know you think it might be okay to talk to women that way around here, but she’s deserves your respect. Your attention at the VERY least. She deserves to not feel itemized, victimized by you. So, if you could take a step back and try to be helpful, that’d be a start. A great next step would be an apology.”   
Spencer’s tone was biting and he had stepped up to stand next to you, nearly right in the man’s face. They locked stares and you saw the weight behind Spencer’s glare, the anger simmering in his delicate features. You reached a small hand out to touch his arm, reminding him where he was and who he is. Before you could, though, you heard a snide reply.   
“You think you’re so tough, pretty boy? If I were to touch her, what would you do about it? You think you could lay a hand on me, kid?” The volume grew with each word until the voice boomed in your ears. The man was red in the face from his anger and he’d pushed his face closer to Spencer’s, tempting him. You didn’t even have time to process the words before Spencer reacted. In a flash, Spencer reached a hand over the bar, knotting it in the fabric of the man’s shirt, tugging him closer until they were nearly face to face. When Spencer spoke, his voice was low and gruff, a growl formed from his chest.   
“You wanna know what I’ll do about it? Or do you wanna know how many poor losers just like you I’ve killed with a perfect, deadly shot? Or maybe how badly I’d love to split that cocky grin on your disgusting face in two? Or how that’ll be just what happens if you say one more word about her? Nevermind me, she’ll kick your ass and have you on the ground quicker than your pea-sized will be able to comprehend it. Trust me, man, you don’t wanna tick her off.”   
You were speechless. You had only seen Spencer this angry a handful of times and it was normally with unsubs who deserved that level of threatening. You knew the darkness that would be swirling in his eyes, making them appear almost black. You knew the tension in his tight grip on the man’s shirt. You knew the anger, the boiling rage that caused him to be this way because you felt it too. You weren’t used to Spencer being protective of you like this, but, to be fair, you hadn’t encountered this much of a creep in a while.   
The man swallowed hard and, when he didn’t respond, Spencer continued. The threat was leveled in his stormy eyes and there was no mistaking the fact that he meant every word he said.   
“I’m going to release you in a moment, against my better judgement, and you’re going to walk over to her and apologize. I want a real apology, not some sad sap crap. And if you don’t mean every word you say, I will be right over here.”   
At that, Spencer released his death grip. The man glowered at him as he stepped back, rubbing his throat where his shirt had choked him. He gave one last glare at Spencer, who scowled back, before turning to you. This time, his words didn’t carry as much confidence as before.   
“Hey, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate, or whatever, about you being weak or something. You look very capable.”   
You saw Spencer out of the corner of your eye, still tense and ready to strike if need be. This time, when you reached for him, he let you. Your hands found each other and you squeezed, signaling everything was okay. The man stood in front of you, apologetic and frightened, though he tried to hide the last one.   
You let go of Spencer’s hand so you could reach ours out in front of you – a peace offering, an olive branch, a sign of good faith. As much as it killed you do it, you had to be the bigger person. The man was shocked at first but shook your hand quickly and you fought to wince when his slippery hand met yours. In a minute, it was over and you could almost forget about it. There wasn’t enough hand sanitizer in the world to make you feel clean again after that, but at least you could carry on with your questioning.   
“May we continue?” You asked, the question poised in the air, ready to release the tension. When the man simply nodded, you continued. You saw Spencer at your side again, rolling his shoulders to ease himself.   
“Did you see Rebecca last night?” You figured it was better to ask again because the last answer had gotten so minced and hidden.   
This time, the man admitted he’d seen her come in and spend a considerable amount of time with a man who had a black baseball cap on all night. You asked if he had any security camera footage and were finally relieved of his presence when he left to go dig the footage up in his back office. With you and Spencer alone in the bar, you could finally address what happened.   
“You know, you didn’t have to defend me.”   
Spencer scoffed, “I know you can defend yourself, but he dug his own hole.”   
You smiled softly, “I know. I appreciate it. Just… I’m glad I didn’t have to tear you two apart.”   
“You would’ve had to if he hadn’t listened.” Spencer paused, trying to find the right words, “I won’t let anyone talk to you like that, you know.”   
You reached for his hand again, only to find him doing the same. You weren’t sure what this meant or what he meant, but you knew he had your back. He always had. Spencer spoke again before you could find words.   
“Just don’t tell Derek he called me pretty boy.” At that, you shared a laugh. Your relationship with Spencer would always be this way. You would’ve done the exact same for him, and had before. You would always protect each other from whatever the world threw your way, no matter what.


End file.
